Me
VOLUME 2.
REYX0LDSV1LLE, PENN'A., WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 11, 1893.
NUMBER 22.
The Unparalleled
SUCCESS!
o-
-Of our sales for
s and
Men'
Is due wholly to the
fact that we give
you one hundred
cents' worth of val
ue. Why does
.everyone say that
Bells are always do
ing something ? Be
cause we have the
Goods and give you
Good, New, Fresh
Goods always. No
old, second . hand
stuff on our counters
I
We have a few more
MEN'S
we are selling for the sum of
$7, 7.50 and $8.$,
actual values $10, $12, and $14, so if you care to secure one
of these Gems and at the same time save $3 to $5 in cash
you will have to come at once.
SCHOOL
II.
Reduced from $2.50 and $3. op.
School will soon commence again and many a boy will
be in need of new clothes. We will offer 1,000 Boys' Good,
Durable and Stylish Cassiinere, Cheviot and Jersey Suits,
sizes 4 to 14, in all different new styles (see above cut) at
the unequalled low price of Two Dollars.
BELL BROS..
Clothiers. - pors - and - Hatters,
REYNOLDSVILLE, PA.
Summer of-
Boy's Suits
SUITS
SUITS,
TO Hfc WARBLING VIREO.
BwrU little prattler, whom the morning ml
Found sli.li(, and thlsllvclongsnmmorday
Keeps warbling sttllt here nitre I dreamed
away
Two brlii l.t and happy hour thnt passed at
one.
Lulled by thy silvery ronverw, Jit begun
And never ended. Thnn dont preach to mo
Bweet patience and her guest reality,
The sense of days and weeks and months thai
run
Scarce altering In their round of happiness.
And quiet thoughts, and tnllstbatdonot kill
And homely pastimes. Though tho old dlstresi
Loom gray above us both at times, ah, still
Be constant to thy woodland note, sweet bird:
By me at least thon shalt be loved and heard.
Archibald Lampman In Youth's Companion
WITH 1'IJNUEK TirS.
HOW HELEN KELLER WAS TAUGHT
THE NAMES OF THINGS.
Something of tho Method Explained by
Bar Tireless Instructress A Fare That
Mirrors Root Which Knows Naught of
the Appearance of Bin.
The most interesting feature of the ed
ucational congress was the appearance
of Helen Keller under the kind and skill
ful guidance of Miss Annie M. Sullivan,
her teacher. When a babe, Helen Keller
became blind, deaf and dumb. When
Miss Sullivan, a young woman of unus
ual beauty of form and feature, stood
before the audience beside a girl who,
except for the sad sign of blindness in
the large eyes, gave promise of still
greater beauty, her face glistening with
a rapture that painters try to express in
the ecstacy of angels, hearts seemed to
stand still. It was a face that had never
consciously looked on the distortions of
passion or pain the mirror of a soul
that conld not imagine the outward ap
pearance of sin nor remember any of the
discords of life.
In her presence it was hard to appre
ciate the fact that hor world lay within
ours, without sun, music or speech. No
one who saw it will forget the impulsive
fluttering of her yonng, white hand as
it sought her teacher's face or round,
white throat; the satisfaction when the
contact of her delicate white finger tips
gave her what sight gives us; tho flash
of light over her face when, with her
forefinger resting on her teacher's lip,
she read the answer to the question she
had asked by the twinkling digital move
ments in her teacher's pa! in. There
wore those who wept when she repeated
audibly, with a depth of feeling she
alone can feel:
Tell me not In mournful numbers
Life Is but an empty dream.
All were invited to ask questions, yei
not many did so. The occasion seemed
sacred.
"How did you teach hor the first
word?" some one ventured at last.
"Her first word was 'doll,'" was the
answer. "I gave her the doll, placed
her finger on my lip and spoke the word.
When she wearied of the doll, I took it
from her, and when I returned it again
gave the movement of the lips. The
second word was 'mug.' I used the cup
from which she drank, but became con
vinced that she had not a clear idea of
the name, but that it meant to her also
water or drink. 80 I one day took her
to the pump, and as the water was flow
ing into her cup had her hold her hand
in the stream, and then putting her fin
ger on my lip gave her the word 'water.'
Then I again gave her the word 'mug.'
The idea that everything had a name,
the comprehension of nouns, was a great
revelation to her and came then and all
at once. She was greatly excited. A
nurse, with the baby sister in her arms,
was standing near. Helen immediately
pat her hand on its face to know its
name. I told hor 'baby,' and she caught
it at once. Then she stooped down and
patted the ground to know what it was
called. She learned many words that
day, and those words she never forgot."
"How soon after she learned words
did she frame sentences?"
"Immediately."
"Were verba harder to learn thao
nouns?"
"Not at all. I began with such words
as sit,"stand' and the like that were
easy to illustrate. Prepositions troubled
her most."
"How does she get an idea of the ab
stract?" "I cannot tell. It seems to be with
her, or it comes."
"Has she any distinguishing sense of
musical vibrations?"
"Yes, very distinct. She likes music"
"Is her vocabulary large?"
"Very large. She expresses herself
fluently and is choioe of words."
"What books does she like best?"
Every now and then the white fingers
fluttered to the teacher's face for just
one delicate touch a finger look it was
and now they rested on Miss Sulli
van's lipt
"Tell the people what books
yon like best."
Helen's face was an open book of her
mental processes. She repeated each
word after Miss Sullivan, but hesitated
little on the words "tell" and "you,"
the brightness of her face dimming for
the instant. As soon as she compre
hended the question, which she did in ad
vance of its completion, the flash of intel
ligence came, and when she turned to
ward the audience, for she did not seem
at any time to lose her location, she said
with spirit!
"Oh, I have read so much that it is
very hard to say what I like best, but"
waiting a moment" 'Little Lord Faunt
leroy"' And then followed rapidly
the names of several works, some of
which, it would seem, could hardly be
understoQd by any one who cannot know
sound and color.
"How do you read?"
"By raised letters and by my teacher."
"I noticed when you pronounced for
her you articulated with an exaggerated
motion of the lips," said one. "Is not
that necessary?"
"Her teaching was begun in that way.
I do not think it is necessary or best. I
attribute the peculiarity of hrr voice to
that mechanical action which she uses.
I think it wonld have been better and
just as easy if she had been spoken to
with the usual movement."
In reply to the question of her knowl
edge of the abstract, General Futon re
marked that the greatest development in
the case of Helen Keller was that of the
spiritual. Memphis Appeal-Avalanche.
The Moon as We flee It.
Did you ever stop to consider the fac
that the inhabitants of this earth have
never seen but one side of the moon, and
to inquire the reasons why such is the
case? The explanation is this: The moon
makes one revolution on her axis in the
same period of time that she takes up in
revolving once around the earth, thus
the same geographical region of the lunar
surface is always toward us. As one ex
planation usually calls for another, it
may not be out of place to mention the
fact that the reasons the two motions of
the moon above referred to so nearly
coincide are these:
The moon is not a true globe, but is
very elliptical in form. It did not in all
probabilities orginally start on its axial
rotation with precisely the same velocity
with which it moved around the earth,
but the very best astronomers say that
the two motions were not far apart in
the start. Assuming that the moon was
semi-liquid or at least soft in those re
mote days, tho earth's attraction caused
the lunar surface to elongate, and in the
nntold ages which followed its axial ro
tation, owing to the attractive influence
of both the earth and the sun, was made
to correspond with its orbital movement
around the earth. St. Louis Republic
Old Time Hanking Methods.
While discussing tho matter of tho
troubles and trials of banking business
of today President James Espy of the
Onio Valley National bank said to a
group of friends: "I tell you that we do
not know anything about the peculiari
ties of the banking business. I have
heard officials of the bank when I was be
ginning in the business rehearse the expe
riences in early banking in Virginia. As
is well known, the residents of that state
were not much given to business tactics.
Whenever they had occasion to issue a
noto, and it was quite frequent, the bank
officials had to drive around to the vari
ous farms, or to the place where the
maker lived, and it was quite difficult to
get them to sign the original, but much
more so a renewal. Experts got so they
could tell whether the note was renewed
in the house or in the field, as they could
tell whether it was written on the pom
mel of a saddle or at a regular desk."
Cincinnati Enquirer.
Why Bo Didn't Shoot.
A man with a wife who has her own
ways about doing things catches her
now and then.
"My dear," he said the other morning
as he was dressing, "I think you were
right when yon told mo last night that
there were burglars in the house,"
"Why?" she asked nervously.
"Because all the money that was in
my pockets when I went to bed is gone,"
"Well," she said, with an I-told-you
so air, "if you had been brave and got
up and shot the wretch, you would have
had your money this morning."
"Possibly, my dear, possibly," he said
gingerly, "but I would have been a
widower."
She laughed softly then and gave
half of it back to him. London Tit
Bits. Tho Whistling Tree.
A species of acacia, which grows very
abundantly in Nubia and the Soudan, is
also called the "whistling tree" by the
natives. Its shoots are frequently, by
the agency of the larvee of insects, dis
torted in shape and swollen into a globu
lar bladder from 1 to 3 inches in diame
ter. After the bisect has emerged from
a circular hole in the side of this swell
ing, the opening, played upon by the
wind, becomes a musical instrument
nearly eqnal in sonnd to a sweet toned
flute. New York Telegram.
A Good Kxeuso.
Judge You are charged with assault
ing this man.
Prisoner I plead guilty, your honor,
but I have a good excuse, I addressed
this man civilly three times, and he never
answered me.
Judge Why, the man is deaf and
dumb!
Prisoner Well, why didn't he say so?
Schalk.
A curious box was recently found
amid the ruins of Pompeii. The box was
marble or alabaster, about 9 inches
square and closely sealed. When opened,
it was found to be full of pomatum or
grease, hard, but very fragrant. The
smell resembled somewhat that of the
roses, but was much more fragrant.
The Bombay officer of health protest
against the destruction of the crocodiles.
He says they are the best and only soar
engers possible of the water reservoirs
in which they dwell.
The greatest eourag9 is to bear perse
cution, not to answer when you are re
viled, and when a wrong has been done
to forgive. "The Newoomei,"
SEARCHING AFTER TRUTH.
tho Realisation Was In Weird Discord to
tho Anticipation.
"Truth lies at the bottom of a well,"
o the people of the world told her.
She was young and fair, and she
searched for Truth, but her frequent
visits to the well brought no discovery,
only the reflection of her beautiful face
In the water.
One night a knock came at her door,
and she sprang up and opened it
There on the threshold stood a bundle
of rags, which moved as if breathing.
She shuddered as she asked, "Who are
your Then came the answert
"I am Truth."
"I wonld see your face," she cried.
"Nay, innocent one, my face is not
fair to look upon, but I am Truth."
The cold wind was blowing and cry
ing, and she closed the door. The Truth
she sought was pure and beautiful, not
loathsome, and with the conviction of
youth she was satisfied with herself for
having refused this grewsotne thing ad
mittance. From that day, however,
strange, visitors knocked at her door,
and each called himself Titith.
First came a gay party of dancers,
whose graceful figures swaying to and
fro captivated her fancy; their musical
voices held her as in their thralL Their
visit was like a delightful dream, and
she asked, "Pray tell me who yon are?"
And they answered, "We are Truth."
So she believed for days; then she real
ized her mistake, and that they were
not Truth, but pleasure. Again she
went to the well, but there found noth
ing. A day dawned brightly, and there came
another knock.
On her threshold stood a lovely child.
Its hair was garlanded with flowers,
and its garb was spotless white.
When it entered, it was as if a portion
of the pure light of the sun had stolen
into the room.
The child's anns were soon intwined
abont the neck of the seeker after Truth.
The odor of the blossoms intoxicated
her; her heart beat with wild delight; a
tender kiss was stamped on her brow,
and with a gentle whisper, "I am
Truth," the child was gone, and at her
feet buds blossomed the room was light
er than it had been for years.
The memory of that vision remained
with her a long time, but at last it fled,
and then she knew it was Love, not
Truth.
Again she went to the well, yet found
nothing.
Years after another knock came. Her
heart beat fast as the figuro of a man en
tered. His manner was flattering and
full of grace his face seemed honest.
She had never felt the influence of oth
er visitors exerted over her with; the pow
er of this one.
She dared not ask his name, but as he
left he said, pressing her hand, "I am
Truth."
For years she believed it; then came
doubt, and she saw what hod been her
ideal of Truth was only Policy,
The next visitor was a long bearded,
bent old man, whoso face was furrowed
and whose hands were palsied.
From his feeble lips came the words,
"I am Truth." His stay was short, but
she remembered that visitor, and oft
when the days were drear she saw be
fore her the trembling hands, the thin,
snow whito locks, the bent form and
the quivering lips, and she believed she
had found Truth.
Bnt she was growing older now, and
somothing told her that Sorrow was not
Truth. Then she went to the well, and
it was dry. But there, far down in it
depths, she saw a toad. "Who are you?"
she cried, and a hollow voice replied,
"I am Tradition." So she turned her
face toward home and knew that the
whole world lied and was deceived.
That same night came a knock at her
door. She rose slowly and opened it.
There stood the strange creature covered
with rags her first visitor.
"What would you? Who are you?"
Then came the answer, "I am Truth."
"I would see your face,? she mur
mured. "Nay, experienced one, my face is not
fair to see, but I am Truth."
"Yet would I see it," she made an
swer, "for well know I now that Truth
is not what we would have it, nor is it
fair."
Then the figure threw off its rag cov
ering, and before her stood a skeleton.
Now ehe knew her life search wasend
ed and that she had at last found Truth.
Henry Russell Wray in Philadelphia
Ledger.
American pioneers were God fearing
and Bible loving. They staked out town
lots in 23 Bethels, 10 Jordans, 9 Jerichos,
14 Bethlehenis, 3 Ooshens, 81 Shilohs,
11 Carmels, 18 Tabors and Mount Ta
bors, 23 Zions and Mount Zions, 26
Edens, 80 Lebanons, 28 Hebrews and 89
Bharons.
A Liverpool policeman, who, as he
thought, swallowed a sixpence 13 years
ago, recently bad a severe pain in his
throat. A fit of coughing came on, and
the long lost coin, half of its original
thickness, was reloused from his throat.
There is an unknown quantity of silver
in the bay of Rio do Janeiro, Brazil a
silver mine, in fact, of, comparatively
speaking, unlimited dimensions, and ev
ery ship that drops anchor there cuts in
to the bed of ore, Exchange.
At Reddltch, England, 20,000 people
make more than 100,000,000 needles a
year, and they are made and exported so
cheaply that England has no rival and
practically monopolizes the trade.
Tho Booster Poet Makes Confession of a
Troublesome Weakness.
James Whitcomb Riley, the poot, de
scribed himself as a train misser. A
friend thns relates how the poet con
fesses his weakness:
I found him occupying an easy chair
in a parlor car that was attached to a
train leaving Chicago at 10:30 a. m. for
Indianapolis. After the greetings, in
that quaintly hmnorons strain that has
made the man and his writing so pop
ular, he described the trial he meets
with as a traveler:
"I have been in the depot three hours
waiting for this train to start for In
dianapolis." "Why did you come here three hours
before traintime? 10:80 is its leaving
time."
"Well, you know I am a train misser.
I can't mnke a train. It doesn't make
any difference what precautions I take, I
miss it or take the wrong train. I got my
ticket yesterday bought it over the'Mo
non route' because I knew it went right
through without change. If I ever have
to change cars, I'm lost. Iam sure tomlss
the connection or take the wrong train.
I had a messenger boy go with me to the
ticket office. Never could have fonnd
it myself. When I got to tho hotel after
tie entertainment last night, I asked the
clerk what time the 'Monon' train left
for Indianapolis.
" 'Monon Monon,' said he; 'hasn't
that road got another name?
" 'It probably has. It would be Just
like these railroads to change the name
immediately after I bought my ticket.'
Then he looked at one of those brain
splitting time cards and said:
" 'Yes! yesl Monon route that's theL.,
N. A. and A. C. railway, and it leaves at
8 a. in.
"I left a call for 6:80, so I could have
my breakfast and beat the depot at 7:80.
I always go to the depot 80 minutes be
fore the t rain leaves, and then I miss it
oftener than I catch it When I pre
sented my ticket to the gntckecper, he
said: 'Your train leaves at 10:80.' That
was so, and here I have been since 7:80.
"Bill Nye says that when my head
was built they run ont of gray matter
when they came to fill my bump of loca
tion, and they filled it with mayonnaise
dressing, and that's a pretty hard thing
for a man to think with." Detroit Free
Press.
A Courageous Corporal.
When Lord Rawdon was in South
Carolina, he had to send an express of
great importance through a part of the
country filled with continental troops.
A corporal of the Seventeenth dra
goons, known for his courage and intel
ligence, was selected to escort it.
They hud not proceeded far when they
were fired upon, the express was killed
and the corporal wounded in the side.
Careless of his wound, he thought only
of his duty. He snatched the dispatch
from the dying man and rode on till,
from the loss of blood, he fell. Then
fearing the dispatch would be taken by
his enemy, be thrust it into his wound
until the wound closed npon it and con
cealed it. He was found next day by a
British patrol, with a smile of honorable
prido npon his countenance, and with
life just sufficient to point to the fatal
depository of his secret ,
In searching the body the cause of his
doath was found, for the surgeon de
clared that the wound in itself was not
mortal, but was rendered so by the irri
tation of the paper. ' -
Thus fell this patriot soldier in rank
a corporal, he was in mind a hero. His
name was O'Lavery, and he come from
the parish of Moira, in County Down,
Ireland. Youth's Companion.
Appearances May Deceive.
Should you happen to seo a girl walk
ing along the street with her face
wreathed in placid smiles, don't take it
for granted that she feels perfectly con
tented and happy. For the truth is that
She may be having a nerve destroying
argument with herself as to whether her
skirt and waist meet properly in the back.
She may have a tiny hole in her shoe and
be perfectly wretched over the thought
of gutting her silk stocking soiled.
She may be on the verge of insanity
because she knows that the one pin with
which she fastened her skirt is going to
give way.
She may be conscious of a big chunk
of soot that has found lodgment on the
end of ber nose.
She may remember that there is but
one hairpin in her hair, and that it would
be just her luck if it were all to tumble
down.
She may hear a little snap and may
know that her garter has broken. That,
however, is simply too horrible for words.
New York Advertiser.
Palettes of Painters.
Palottes of famous painters form an
interesting collection in tho possession
of M. Beuginet of Paris. His collection
numbers over 100 specimens, chief among
which are the palettes used by Corot,
Troyon, Delacroix, Benjamin Constaus,
Bonnat, Rosa Bonheur, Detaille, Puvis
de Chavannes and other artists of celeb
rity. Philadelphia Ledger.
- 1
Older Than Bo Was,
"I say, boy," remarked a tourist to a
youngster, "what's the name of that hill
yonder?"
"Dunno," replied the lad briefly.
"Don't know? Lived here all your life,
Til warrant, and don't know the name of
that little lull? Well, I am surprised,1;
continued the pilgrim.
"No, I dunno its name," replied the
lad, stung by the critioism. "Anyhow,"!
he continued, "the hill was here before!
oom'd.' New York Herald.